


Beauty and the Domination

by TangledIntoYou



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bondage, Dom/sub, F/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Nudity, Other, Punishment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 16:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14856578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TangledIntoYou/pseuds/TangledIntoYou
Summary: When Belle breaks the rules, Beast finds punishments that push all of her boundaries.  AU deviation





	1. Caught in the West Wing

She could have ruined everything. The instant I saw her nearly touching the rose, I lost all coherent thought.

I sprang forward, closing the distance in one easy leap. Picking up the protective glass covering, I whipped it down into place, managing to be careful even in my rage. The rose was everything. The rose could not be exposed to my wrath.

The girl though…

I turned, feeling the fur on my back standing on edge in my agitation. “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, backing away. Her eyes were impossibly wide. I could smell her fear. I enjoyed the scent.

“I told you never to come here,” I growled. Releasing my hold on the carefully covered rose, I began stalking towards her. “Do you realize what you could have done!?”

“I didn’t mean any harm!” The girl protested.

I wanted to scream at her. To howl for her to leave. To go someplace where she couldn’t harm the rose or ruin every last hope I had. Instead I reached forward. My movement was sudden, something the girl didn’t expect. I caught her wrist and dragged her close, giving her a thorough smell. Under the intoxicating layer of fear - 

“You’ve eaten.”

The girl shivered, looking away from me. She was trying to pull away, but her strength was no match compared to mine.

“You’ve eaten,” I repeated. “And you’ve been dressed.”

My hastily shouted order from earlier that night echoed in my head. If the girl didn’t eat with me, she didn’t eat at all. And yet the servants had fed her. Even if she had somehow snuck to the kitchens on her own, the same way she had snuck in here, they had fed her.

I saw red.

Sweeping the girl up into my arms, I ignored her startled cry and protests and questions, and tore out of the west wing. I leapt over banisters and raced along corridors until I reached the top of the main staircase. No servants were visible, but I knew they were there. Watching. Listening.

“You think by defying my orders you are showing this girl kindness?” I shouted. My voice echoed through the hall. 

The only answer was a sob of fear from the girl.

“You think you help her in this way? My word is law,” I commanded.

I turned my attention to the girl. She was weeping almost silently, occasionally trying to pull her arms from my grasp. She stood no chance. It took no effort to hold her wrists in one hand while I pulled the ribbon from her hair with the other. My claws nearly tangled in her thick brown locks, but the ribbon pulled neatly away before I was caught.

Tying her wrists together took only a moment. Then I lifted them over her head and hooked the knotted ribbon over the pitchfork of a grinning demon. It had once been a glorious cherub, I remembered vaguely. But so much had changed. So much of the castle, and so much of me.

“If you don’t eat with me,” I told the girl, leaning down to speak into her face, “You don’t eat at all. And if you go someplace you’re forbidden, you’ll be punished.” My claws hooked into the neck of her borrowed clothes. Before she comprehended what I meant to do, the fabric was being torn away. 

“No!” She cried, trying to twist away from me. But there was nowhere for her to go. I caught her waist in one hand to hold her still, and continued shredding the dress with the other. I didn’t stop until she was naked. The scent of fear poured off of her. Intoxicating. I wanted to lean down and lick the smell from her skin.

Instead I stepped back. I let the hidden servants see what I had done, exposing the girl’s naked body to the full, darkened chamber of the great hall. She gasped and squirmed, but could do nothing to cover herself, or break free.

Tail thrashing, I paced away from the girl and sat down, staring at her. She gleamed in the dark hall. White, creamy skin almost shone against the backdrop of gloom and despair. She was quite pretty, too, I realized. Long, slender legs, an incredibly narrow waist, and above that narrow waist were lush, full breasts, tipped with tiny pink buds. The beauty went further than her appealing body though. My prisoner bit her lips in an effort to keep from screaming. Full, pouty and red, they were a temptation. As were the impossibly large brown eyes, wide open and staring as I examined her.

I could hear her breathing now. Short, quick gasps. I could practically hear her heart racing in the echoing hall.

Standing, I moved towards her again. Before I reached out, she tried to pull away, bowing awkwardly against the ties holding up her arms. “Don’t touch me!” she cried.

I paused and studied her face. Her whole body trembled with fear, and yet she tried to stare at me with defiance. It was almost admirable.

“You are my prisoner,” I reminded her.

“Not to - not to be… used!” she gasped.

I almost smiled. Leaning down, I could see her hair ruffle from the nearness of my breath. “It’s far too late to be negotiating terms,” I growled. Grasping one of her ankles in my paw, I tugged her legs apart. She teetered, struggling to keep her balance, pulling against the restraints.

The ribbon wouldn't hold forever, I knew. I wouldn't trust it much longer. But a new scent on the air caught my attention. Fear, yes, there was plenty of fear. But something else. As the girl shrieked for me to let her go, I placed it - arousal.

Something about this aroused her. Not completely, but now that I had placed the scent it was undeniable. I wondered what had triggered it. The exposure, the bonds, the fear itself? I'd heard of stranger things. Hell, I'd participated in them myself more than once.

The scent awakened a part of me I hadn’t remembered for years. Rules, instructions, limitations. Learning how to know when ‘No’ on the lips could be mean something else. 

How long ago that had been.

I clasped the girl’s waist in one gigantic paw, and pulled her restrained hands free with the other. I lifted her off her feet in the process, and carried the motion through by slinging her over my shoulder. Her weight was nothing, but as I prowled down the corridors to her room, more of those lessons came back to me. One in particular - punishments needed explanation. And comfort.

I nearly snorted at the thought. As if the girl deserved comfort. She’d seen the rose - had nearly touched it! But on my shoulder her thin body quaked with nearly-silent sobs. 

Outside her bedroom door I set her on her feet, holding her still-tied hands in one paw. She refused to look at me, but the tear tracks on her face were plain to see. Growling quietly, I resigned myself to at least try.

“I gave you few instructions,” I said, my voice probably too sharp. “Stay away from the West Wing, and share your meals with me. Did you obey those instructions?”

Although she was shivering and still avoiding looking at me, the girl shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

“That is why you were punished. But it’s over now. We need never speak of it again.”

She looked at me then. Disbelief clear in her expression. Defiance not far behind. Not wanting to give her time to say something she would only have to regret, I lifted her bound hands and carefully sliced through the ribbon with a claw, careful not to catch her delicate skin.

“Go,” I told her. “Get warm. Sleep. Tomorrow you _will_ join me for breakfast.”

It was not a request.


	2. The Consequence of Running Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The matter was not settled with a simple 'Thank you for saving my life.'

It was a restless night. A chase through the woods. A fight with hungry wolves. Followed by the girl - Belle - tending to my injury. It was unnecessary, but kind of her.

She had a spark, Belle. Despite her harrowing night, she had stood up to me. Tried to make a point. I let the matter drop for the time being, thinking to myself that she had no idea just how strongly my temper was held in check at that very moment. She had run away. She had given her word, and she had broken it after less than a single day.

But she would find out soon enough. At the moment, it was nice to have her small, soft hands on my fur. To see the blaze of indignation in her large brown eyes.

Morning came too soon and I regretted my demand that she take the meal with me. But the command had been given. I dressed - something I rarely did anymore - and made my way downstairs, weighing my options if Belle refused to join me again.

To my surprise, she did. 

The meal was rather pleasant. Quiet, but Belle didn’t seem afraid of me any longer. I almost hated to risk erasing all of that. But the the actions of the previous evening could not be ignored.

When the meal was over, I accompanied Belle back to the hall. At the bottom of the grand staircase, I rested a paw on her shoulder. Although she stiffened, she didn’t flinch away. I admired her bravery, but was resolved to my decision.

“We need to address last night,” I said. My voice was low, firm. “You volunteered to take your father's place as prisoner. Although I granted his freedom, you did not uphold your word.”

“But -"

“You ran away. And in the process, you risked the life of your horse, and your own life. Furthermore, while rescuing you, I was injured.”

“But I only -"

“Silence,” I commanded. To my surprise, she obeyed, falling silent at once. She was shivering now, although she still didn't try to pull away from me. She did cross her arms over her chest, obviously remembering the previous night.

“Did you break your word, Belle?” I questioned.

I had to wait a long time for her answer. Eventually she bowed her head. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Come with me.”

I released her as I turned and led the way out of the grand hall. I moved slowly, waiting to see what she would do. It would be no challenge to chase her down, to drag or carry her wherever I wished. But I wanted her to obey. And after another lengthy hesitation, she followed.

I turned only once as I led her to the small sitting room where we had spent an hour the previous evening. Her brown eyes were lowered. Tear tracks already stained her cheeks. She dreaded what I would do, and perhaps she was right to.

After she stepped into the room I closed the door. I also closed the curtains, leaving the room lit by only a small fire. Then I moved to my armchair, beckoning Belle to stand before me. She did so, hugging her arms across her chest protectively. After sitting carefully in the chair, I patted my knee. “Bend over,” I said.

Her outrage was immediate. “What? I will do no such thing!”

“You broke your word,” I reminded her.

“I’m not a child! You will not treat me as such!”

“Would you rather be locked in the tower?”

That drew her up short. She hesitated, cheeks flushed. But when she finally spoke, her voice was firm. “I will not be treated like a child.”

My chin came up, temper flaring. “You would rather be treated like a grown woman, who had gone back on her word and endangered several lives.” I stood, feeling the hair on my back begin to stand on end. “Very well.”

I reached forward and snatched her up, throwing her over my shoulder as I had done the night before. Her weight now, like then, was insignificant.

Temper smarting, I burst out of the room, sending eavesdropping servants scuttling into corners and out of sight. I ignored them, aware of the fear and dread I must be sparking in their hearts as I leaped up the stairs and over a balcony, the terrified Belle over my shoulder all the while.

I didn’t stop until I reached the tower. I chose the nearest cell - not the one that had held her father - and threw open the door. Inside, a pair of stocks leaned away from our sudden entrance. It was animated, but not sentient, I noticed with a small flicker of relief. “Open up,” I ordered, and set the girl on her feet a split second before thrusting her wrists through the opening.

The stocks snapped closed, the wood bending slightly to compensate for her slender frame. As I had expected, the second I released my hold on her, Belle began yanking against the stocks. “Let me go!” she cried, twisting and pulling hard enough to injure herself. The stocks held firm though, keeping her bent at the waist. She could have knelt to be more comfortable, but I doubted she would do so willingly.

I moved to stand behind her, resting a heavy paw on her shoulder. She stilled, although I could feel her trembling. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“You chose a harsher punishment than the one I offered. I am fulfilling your wish.”

“This isn’t what I meant!” she protested. She yanked again against the stocks, but less frantically now, accepting that she was firmly held. “You can’t do this!”

“Did you or did you not break your word last night?” I asked.

She stilled again. When she spoke, her voice was still defiant. “Only because you frightened - “

“Yes or no?”

Quiet now. “Yes.”

“I may not be as attentive as my servants would like, but I know my duty more than anyone. And an infraction like the one you committed cannot go ignored.” I paused. “Even after your encounter with the wolves.”

I gave her a moment, expecting more protests. I was a little surprised she had allowed me to say so much without interruption. But to my surprise she only bowed her head and gave a small nod, silent.

Of course, her silent acceptance broke as soon as I placed my claws beneath the neck of her gown and began to tear it open. The dress split easily down the seam, my claws easily shredding the fabric where it tried to resist.

Belle screamed, protested, tried to demand that I stop. Only when she stood naked, her dress and undergarments a puddle at her feet, did I stop. Again, I rested a heavy paw on her shoulder. 

“This is what you chose, Belle. No punishment should be enjoyable, but you refused my offer downstairs. So you will take what you are given.”

“You're going to - To - “ she couldn't complete the thought.

“It’s called a paddling. I suspect you'll find it completely disagreeable. But as I said, punishments are not meant to be enjoyed.”

With that, I took a few steps to the side. A small board rested on the floor. It was old, and rough. It was a poor choice for Belle’s delicate skin, but this was no pleasure-play. She truly deserved a punishment. And I wouldn't leave her alone like this to find something more suitable. I would just have to be careful.

She had turned to watch when I stepped aside, and as I bent to pick up the board, her large eyes widened even further. “No,” she tried again. “No, please. You can’t do this!”

“Enough,” I growled. My voice had deepened, and Belle responded to the order. Although tears were streaming down her cheeks, she turned away, silent once again. I doubted it would last.

The board, while plenty large and heavy in size, was easily wielded. After checking for any loose splinters, I gave it a few practice swings to judge the heft. It wasn’t my intention to injure the girl, or beat her senseless. But I couldn’t give her a gentle swat and send her on her way, either.

Returning to Belle’s side, I inwardly sighed at hard she was trembling. Her legs would give out any minute. I rested my paw on her shoulder yet again. “This is a lesson, Belle. It will not last forever.”

And then I swung the board.

It connected with her backside with a slapping sound. She jumped at the impact. Surprised more than hurt, I suspected. She jumped again at the second slap, and grunted at the third. 

Standing bent as she was, her breasts swung with each blow. I admired the sight, wishing I could touch them. Feel the weight of them. See how easily her nipples hardened. 

I shifted my gaze, but the sight of her reddening backside was no better. Her cheeks were turning a pretty pink, bordering on red. As her hips shifted when the board struck home, I could easily imagine how she would look with my cock driving into her. Her grunts born of pleasure instead of pain. Or perhaps a delicious blending of the two.

I needed to stop before my thoughts went any further down this path. Belle was a prisoner. An innocent girl. And I wasn’t even a man. I was a beast. A monster, she had called me.

Giving her ass one final slap, firmer than those before it, I flung the board aside. Briefly adjusting myself in my trousers, I moved towards the door. As I had expected, familiar servants lurked nearly out of sight. I wondered if it was gross curiosity that had brought them this far, or genuine care for the girl.

“Bring a blanket,” I ordered. “And ready her room for the night.”

I turned away before they had scuttled out of sight. Belle had finally sunk to her knees. Her forehead was pressed against her arms, clearly sobbing. Although she did so quietly.

Standing behind her once more, I grasped her arms to hold her still when the stocks let her go, not wanting to see her collapse onto the floor. The cell was filthy. I already regretted bringing her here.

Tail thrashing the air, I scooped her into my arms once she was free. She didn’t struggle right away. Not until she realized I wasn’t taking her anywhere. As I sank onto a stool, she tried to free herself.

“Be still,” I snapped. When she immediately froze, I tried to gentle my voice. “The risk you took last night was a terrible one. I was upset to see you in such immediate danger. You will allow me to hold you.”

It was an order, not a request. But instead of rebuffing me as she usually did, Belle simply resumed her crying, shaking and trembling. Fear? Shock? I held her carefully, trying to shield her delicate skin with my fur. The cell wasn’t just filthy, it was freezing. I could see my breath in the air, I realized, and nearly snorted at how short-sighted I had been.

Belle stifled her sobs at the familiar clanking gate of the returning servants. Wanting to appear brave? I wondered. I shifted to further block her from view and held out a hand. After a brief hesitation, a blanket was tossed into it. “Leave us,” I said firmly.

Another hesitation, and then the retreating sound of porcelain, wood and golden servants on the stone stairs.

I stood and set Belle on her feet, swooping the blanket around her shoulders. Although I was disappointed to no longer be able to admire her naked form, I was relieved to offer her some warmth. But I didn’t let her back away. Instead, I rubbed my paws up and down her back and shoulders, coaxing her blood to quicken. When my paws reached her backside, she sucked in a breath and tried to jerk away.

“Be still,” I told her again. My voice was calm now. “It will help ease the pain.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. But as I rubbed and massaged her backside, I knew my motivations weren’t wholly innocent. Dipping my head down, I sniffed the top of her head. Although I wasn’t tasting the air for it, I caught the familiar scent of arousal again. 

My vision clouded with wanton images. Belle’s breasts bouncing in time to my thrusts. Belle on her knees, her jaw stretched open as she sucked my cock. Belle’s legs spread open, her inner thighs streaming with fluid and desire.

I blinked, realizing I had lowered my head further. With my nose just at the crook of her neck there was no mistaking the scent. It was similar to the one the night before. Mostly fear. But arousal was there too. And stronger than before.

Growling now, I once again reminded myself that - aroused or not - Belle was not an option. No woman was an option in this form. The girl was inexperienced. She didn’t know what she was feeling. And, no matter how appealing it would be to teach her, it wasn’t my responsibility or my place.

I scooped her into my arms once again and exited the tower almost as swiftly as I had entered it. I refused to acknowledge how soft and delicate she felt. Or how she clung to my fur, leaning into me and not away. Or how she didn’t protest at being carried. 

“The servants will bring your dinner to your room,” I said as we turned down the corridor to her suite. “They will fetch you anything you want. Do not hesitate to ask.” Setting her back on her feet, I wished that I had an excuse to linger. “Come out whenever you wish.”

Then, with one last look at her large brown eyes - absolutely ignoring the expression of curiosity and confusion there - I left.


	3. Thin Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle falls through some ice and requires rescuing.

For several days after that, the castle was quiet. Belle did not outright avoid me, but she managed to spend little more than our meals together. She was all but silent, keeping her gaze averted.

When not with me though, she seemed animated enough. I watched from a courtyard as she exercised her horse and played with what had formerly been a castle dog. It was the third day of watching her roam the grounds that the servants suggested the idea of giving Belle the library.

The library did more than smooth things over. Belle seemed genuinely moved by the gesture, and opened herself up once more. She began spending her evenings with me, sitting on the floor by the fire with a book. I let her be the first few nights, but once I questioned her on the story she had selected, she brightened instantly, excited to talk about the book. She even moved closer to show me the illustrations at the beginnings of each chapter.

It became a pleasant habit, to pass the evening discussing the book she had read during the day. I had read some of the stories, although not many, and the ones I could actively speak about seemed to please her the most. She would challenge my every opinion, question my vague memories of the plots, and argue her own case with sparkling enthusiasm.

It was after breakfast one morning when our routine changed yet again. I accompanied Belle to the hall and gave her a small bow. “Enjoy your morning walk,” I said, and turned to go away.

“Would you like to come with me?”

I turned around, surprised. “I’m sorry?”

Belle looked a little uncertain. She twisted her fingers together. “That is - I’m sure you’re busy. But it’s a nice day today. I thought you might… join me,” she finished lamely.

My heart lifted at the invitation, my mind going immediately to the rose, to the curse, to the possibility that had seemed so impossible after that first night. “I would like that very much,” I agreed.

Spending time feeding birds was hardly something I ever would have thought to do. Somehow though, with Belle’s company, the activity didn’t seem as ridiculous. It was actually sort of enjoyable. 

More than the fun, though, was a few subtle gestures on Belle’s part. She had reached for me, touched me willingly. Several times. And none of them had felt deliberate. She had used my arm to help stand, and leaned against me during a strong, cold breeze. She had even reached for my paw upon spotting a bluebird - her favorite.

That evening, she read a chapter of her latest book out loud to me, leaning comfortably against my arm from time to time as she shifted her position. Life, for that moment in time, seemed almost perfect. It had seemed impossible only days before, but I could almost believe that love might be in my future. That I might eventually find a way to break the curse.

 

 

The next morning, I woke in a black mood. It happened sometimes. More often than not, in the past few years. There never needed to be a cause or a reason. My life was the reason. The curse. Being trapped in this castle, a hideous beast, with nothing but transformed servants for company.

I left Belle to her own devices and paced the confines of the West Wing. I destroyed a table, taking animalistic delight in it’s animated struggles. Storming to the balcony to hurl the last leg into the depths of the canyon beyond, I realized Belle was outside. She was exploring the grounds. I could see her from here.

Flinging the leg aside, I crossed to the railing to see her better. She was alone from what I could see. No horse in sight, and after watching for several seconds I didn’t see the footstool come galloping into sight, although the two were often together these days. I frowned slightly, wondering if she thought she was sneaking off.

Within a few moments, my gaze of her was blocked by a lower tower, and as I mentally followed her path, I realized she wouldn’t come back into view. But if she thought she would escape in that direction, she would be disappointed. The bordering fence was strong and secure, especially on those part of the grounds. The neighboring woods were far from friendly, even before the castle had become so isolated.

I lifted my head, staring in the direction of the woods. It was possible I had imagined the howl, thinking about Belle’s previous forray away from the castle. But, no, there it was again. 

Growling, I stared down at the roofs below, mapping out the quickest route to another balcony. One with a view of what the foolish captive girl was up to. Once I was sure of where I was going, I backed up two paces, and sprang over the railing.

Tiles slipped away as I landed heavily on a neighboring roof. My claws scraped for purchase. Once I had a grip, I turned, leaping across a distance to a decorative walkway. I passed the gargoyles at a near run and jumped to the next roof. Then on to a balcony. And from there, I could see Belle again. 

She had broken into a run, her cape flapping behind her. I followed the path she was taking and spotted her goal. An animal of some kind. It looked incongruous on the field of snow, barely a spot of dark on the white from this distance. It had clearly climbed through the gates that crossed the river that ran from the woods and onto the grounds.

The wolves howled again and I looked back at Belle, realizing her intent. She was hell-bent on rescuing that animal from the wolves. It was a pointless endeavor, as the wolves couldn’t breach the castle grounds. But she didn’t know that. And she also didn’t know that the animal stood not on a field of snow, but on frozen water. Ice that might hold an animal could easily crack under a person - even one as slight as Belle.

“Belle! Stop!” Of course she couldn’t hear me. Even if she weren’t running she couldn’t have heard me over such a distance. 

Growling, I looked down, trying to map a route to the ground. But the drop was too severe from all angles on this side of the castle, even for me. Snarling now, I turned my back on Belle and her doom and tore open the doors to reenter the castle. 

Flying through the rooms and corridors, I jumped flights of stairs in my haste. Spotting one of the servants trying to duck out of sight, I shouted out orders. Blankets. Warm water. A hot fire.

At long last, I flung open a pair of doors to the grounds. I couldn't hear the crack of breaking ice. Maybe Belle had noticed the terraine before barreling forward. That seemed unlikely, given her pace when I had last seen her, and I didn’t hesitate to jump the snow-covered stairs. Bending down, my pace increased as I ran on all fours in the direction Belle had taken.

When the break in the wall came visible, I didn’t immediately see anything. But as I drew closer, I could see a dark pattern maring the flat white of the snowy landscape. The ice had been broken, then. 

Quickening my pace, I huffed out another snarling growl as the river came into better view. On the other side of the iron bars were a pack of wolves, circling and snapping and trying to fit through. But even they were wary of getting out too far onto the ice.

And there, sunk up to her shoulders in the icy water, was Belle. It was a miracle she hadn’t slipped beneath the surface. 

I didn’t slow as I approached the river. Even when Belle cried out a warning, I kept up my pace. Only when the snow-covered ground turned to snow-covered ice did I slow. The wolves had stopped their attempts to fit through the gate, but they didn’t back away, watching warily.

Well before I reached Belle, I could hear the ice snapping and popping beneath my paws. Even spread out on all fours, I was too heavy for the ice. I resigned myself to the inevitable, still moving towards where Belle struggled and slipped, sliding a further into the water.

Before I could reach her, only ten feet away, the ice gave out. I plunged into the icy depths and let out a roar at the shock. But I didn’t go under. The water was more shallow here, and I had a considerable height on Belle. After sucking in a breath and struggling to think past the shock of the cold, I continued on in her direction.

It was slow going. I had to break the ice as I went, swinging my arms down repeatedly to shatter chunks and shove them aside. My fur grew heavy as as it soaked in the icy water. I was panting hard before long, my breathing laced with a low, constant growl. Every step seemed to take ages, my limbs growing colder with every passing second.

And then, finally, I could reach across the last stretch of unbroken ice. Belle lifted a hand towards me, her fingers red, nails broken from struggling for a grip. My paw closed over it and a small part of me relaxed. I had gotten to her. She was safe.

Or she would be safe, once I got her out of the water.

It wasn’t easy to pull her up and out of the water, but eventually she was laying across the ice that separated us. She was shivering uncontrollably, and now I could see that her lips were tinged with blue. 

“Hold on, Belle,” I told her. “Just a few minutes more.”

But she couldn’t go back in the water. Not long enough for me to walk her to the shore. I hesitated a second, and then lifted her up and draped her lengthwise across my shoulders. She lay there, limp and shivering, occasionally whimpering through her chattering teeth. Then I turned around and began slogging back through the water to the shore. My legs were nearly numb by now. Every step on the rocky shore below stabbed like needles.

Reaching the shelf of ice where I had fallen through presented a new challenge. Did I break the ice all the way to the bank, or did I figure out how to get us both onto the ice again? Would it hold our joint weight?

I carefully lifted Belle from my shoulders and transferred her to the ice, pushing her forward as far as my arms could reach. I would attempt to climb up a few feet away and come back for her. But as I turned aside, an approaching clatter caught my attention. It was the carriage. Or what had once been the carriage, now a wrecked, broken down relic. It swarmed across the grounds toward us on it’s warped legs. 

As I heaved myself out of the water onto ominously creeking ice, the carriage came to a halt just at the bank of the river. The door sprang open and several servants hopped out. They clattered, skittering through the snow and over the ice, crying out in horror and concern. Belle, huddled in a ball now, seemed completely oblivious to the attention she was receiving.

“Get back,” I told them, bending down to pick Belle up again. As I leaned over her, icy water dripped from my fur onto her face, and she let out a chattering whimper. I growled in answer. 

I managed to carry her to the carriage and climb inside. My legs were burning with cold and I was shivering myself. The servants continued clamoring, wondering what had happened. To my surprise, just as the door started to slam shut, Belle shouted out.

“N-n-no!” she cried, her voice harsh and chattering. “T-the c-c-cat!”

The cat? I had completely forgotten the whole reason Belle had gone running headlong into such danger. Then I remembered the speck I had seen from the balcony. The howl of the wolves.

“Forget the cat,” I snarled. “It’s fine.”

I started to reach forward to slam the carriage door by force, but made the mistake of looking at Belle. Her large eyes were wide open and expressed nothing but tragic disappointment. I glowered, growled, and then relented. 

Carefully setting Belle aside on the carriage seat, I managed to climb out of the warped doorway. I was certain the damned cat was long gone. Between the wolves and breaking ice, no animal would hang around. But not two steps out of the carriage, there it was. A small, black kitten. It trotted forward without any sign of fear, and let me pick it up. Frowning slightly at this bizarre behavior, I returned to the carriage and set the kitten on the bench where the servants were waiting.

“There,” I said, and slammed the door. The carriage took off at once, trundling along in its awkward gait. Taking my place next to Belle, I didn’t pull her into my lap again. But I did turn to face her, frowning at her pale face, her blue-tinged lips. “We need to get that dress off.”

“W-w-what?” she chattered, shrinking further into herself. “N-no!”

“Sire,” one of the servants protested. “Now might not be - “

“You’re soaking,” I said, ignoring the servant. “The dress is practically frozen. You’re only doing yourself further harm staying in it. They brought a blanket.” I reached across the carriage, sending the servants scuttling aside as I reached for the blanket. I shook it loose and draped it across my knees, then turned back to Belle. “Now.”

“N-n-no!”

My eyes narrowed. A low growl started in my chest. Across the way, the servants shifted uneasily. “Sire, we aren’t that far,” one of them began hesitantly.

“Do you know how long she was in that water?” I snapped, glowering at them. “You would prefer she grow sick and die? Take it off,” I ordered Belle. “Now. Or I will.”

There were tears now. The servants shifted uneasily and then slowly rotated themselves to look away. Belle reached up and attempted to lift her cape over her head, but her hands were too stiff. And even in the dark carriage I could see how red and shiny they were. Her feet had to be even worse.

Impatient now, I reached forward and pushed the soaked cape up and out of the way. When I reached for the neck of her dress, she tried to shove my hands away. “I-I c-can - “ she tried to say.

I ignored her and hooked my claws into the neck and began tearing the fabric away. I attempted to leave her shift alone to afford her some sort of dignity. It was soaked through as well, but the thin fabric would dry quickly and everyone who had protested this very basic step would probably appreciate the small sense of modesty. Unfortunately my claws weren’t always precise, and the jolting ride back to the castle made me even less so. By the time I pulled Belle back onto my lap to pull the dress from her legs and begin clawing at her boots, the shift was torn in several places and nearly shredded in others.

Her feet were in bad shape, as I had suspected. As I wrapped her in the blanket and pulled her against my chest, I tried to remember what I had once known about treating limbs damaged by the cold. Still shivering, Belle huddled into a ball and leaned into me, although I was sure my wet fur was beginning to soak the blanket through.

The carriage climbed the steps and opened its door right at the castle entrance. I bundled Belle up more tightly, and stood, feeling the sharp pain in my own feet. And I hadn’t been in the water nearly as long. As I strode into the hall, the castle felt almost painfully warm. 

“The bath,” I demanded.

“Upstairs, sir,” a servant answered. “In her chambers.” They had clearly been waiting for us. No doubt the entire staff was in uproar. Just how many had been watching from windows?

That was a relief. Once Belle was warmed, she could be put straight to bed. I adjusted my hold on her and started up the stairs. I wished I could move more quickly, but my own joints were stiff and aching from the cold. I would have to take care of myself, once I knew Belle was being well looked-after.

The fire was roaring in Belle’s room, and a bath had been set in front of it. I didn’t see any steam rising, but I adjusted my hold on Belle and put a paw in the water to make sure it wasn’t too warm, just in case. Once I was satisfied, I shuffled the now-damp blanket away from Belle and lowered her into the water, shift and all.

She cried out, stiffening and clawing at my arms. “No! It hurts!”

I knelt down, holding her gently by the waist to keep her in the warm water. It was burning my hands as well, but I knew that was what I needed. “The pain is good,” I told her softly. “It means you don’t have any permanent damage. It will fade,” I promised.

Still, it was difficult to kneel there and listen to her whimpers, to see her shifting uneasily in the water, to feel her strain against me, holding her in a deliberately painful situation. Slowly, eventually, her shivers eased. Her vice-like grip on my arms relaxed. “Better?” I asked.

She nodded. 

I carefully eased my hands from the water and rested an elbow against the edge of the tub. “You should stay here for a while. Splash some water on your face to warm your nose. The servants will keep the water warm. I’ll come back and move you into bed. Do not try to walk on your own, your feet have been badly injured.”

After waited for her nod, I slowly stood. Spending time in the warm room had eased some of my own chill, but my soaked fur would take more attention to fully dry. “I won’t be long,” I told her. And without letting my gaze linger on all that I could see through her sheer, soaked shift, I turned and left the room.


	4. Time Heals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't long before Belle is restless

I was surprised to find that Belle had followed my instructions. She remained in the bath until my return. Her cheeks were faintly pink from the warmth of the water. When I examined her hands and feet, they were still red, but looked better. And she could moved them. But when I squeezed her foot, she jumped, wincing. They would take some time to heal, as I had expected.

A further surprise was finding the kitten in her room. Curled up in a tiny ball in front of the hearth, it looked as content as an animal that had always lived in the castle. When I mentioned it, Belle brightened into a smile that warmed my heart. 

“He came in when Mrs. Potts brought in more fresh water. I think I’ll name him Soot.”

“You intend to keep him, then?” I questioned.

Her smile faltered as she looked at me, then away. “That is… I mean, if you - “

“I do not object,” I said. “But he may not get along with the dog. We’ll deal with that later. For now, you need to rest.”

Reaching into the water, I lifted Belle out easily. I enjoyed how she gasped and reached for my arms, and enjoyed even more how she protested that she would only get me wet. “You cannot stand,” I pointed out. “You will have to grow used to having some assistance.”

I moved to a wooden bench where the towels had been laid out and set Belle down. Kneeling in front of her, I began pushing the hem of her shift up and over her knees. It came as no surprise that Belle immediately pushed my paws away, squeezing her knees together. I stared into her face, waiting for her to eventually meet my gaze. “Cease this,” I told her firmly. “You cannot be put to bed soaking wet. You must be dried. And I tire of hearing you tell me no.”

“I can do it,” she whispered.

I only snorted in answer, but when I pushed at her shift again, she let her hands be moved aside. Her cheeks were stained with red. Embarrassment now, rather than just heat. She adjusted her position to allow me to remove the garment, and then covered her chest with her arms, as if I could not see her through the soaking wet fabric before. 

I kept my attention on her legs, being careful to towel her feet only lightly. It was difficult to judge, given my size and strength. But she didn’t seem to be uncomfortable with my touch. At least, not until I shifted closer and began toweling her waist, then up to her breasts.

She tried to push me away again. I paused, keeping my paws where they rested. “Belle,” I said carefully. “If I cause you pain, you may tell me. But I will not tolerate being told no again. From this point on, any ‘no’ will result in a punishment. Do you understand?”

Her luminous eyes widened, her reddened cheeks paled. Slowly, her hands fell away. Her gaze dropped, and she turned her face away from me.

Despite my prior determination to leave the girl alone, I lingered over drying her breasts. They deliciously firm and full, fitting into the palm of my paw quite nicely. And when I brushed the towel over her breast gently, her nipple peaked in a very inviting way. Responsive, despite the slightly reddened skin. Her breasts must have been pressed against the ice the whole time she was in the water.

“I'm glad only your hands and your feet seem to have received any serious damage,” I observed, forcing myself to set the towel aside. Standing, I crossed to the wardrobe and accepted the offered nightdress. It was voluminous, old fashioned. I absolutely hated the thing, but was certain it would help keep Belle warm. “Perhaps I should consider putting a guard on you. For your own safety.”

Belle’s splutter was exactly what I had been hoping for. “You say that like I’m - “

“Like you’re the sort of person to run onto frozen water without making sure it’s safe?” I questioned, sliding the dress over her head. “Like you’re the sort of person to ride her horse into unfamiliar woods at night, without protection? Or the sort of person to go exploring in areas where she had been strictly forbidden?”

When Belle’s face emerged through the neckline, she looked angry, but her lips were pressed together. She couldn’t argue with me. Amused now, and pleased that she had let go of her tension, I waited until she tugged the nightdress into place and then lifted her into my arms.

I deposited her in the bed and pulled the covers up over her legs. But then I leaned down over her, watching her eyes widen once again. “You are a beautiful woman, Belle. You should not be ashamed to be seen or touched.”

Her cheeks flared with color once again. She looked away, and then looked back at me. “We aren’t alone,” she whispered.

For a moment I was confused. Then I looked around and remembered the wardrobe. The servant had eased her facial features out of the wood, but she was still here, was no doubt perfectly aware of everything happening between the master of the castle and his prisoner.

I gave a small shrug. “It’s a common part of living in a castle, Belle. Being alone is often more illusion than anything.” Under the ruse of adjusting her blankets, I let my thumbs caress the sides of her breasts one last time. “But I will remember your preference for privacy. Now, get some rest. You had a busy day.”

As I left the room, I couldn’t shake one thought from my mind - Belle’s objection had been to the audience. Not to me touching her.

-

For two full days, Belle was confined to her room. I visited her several times a day, and between the servants and her new pet, she was far from alone. I even ventured into the library and brought her a few books I remembered enjoying, much to her delight. When she requested, I read a few pages aloud, but I did prefer to listen to her reading instead.

When she could stand without pain, I agreed that she could venture to other areas of the castle again, but strictly insisted that she remain indoors. Her skin was only recently healed. Any more exposure to cold could send her right back where she’d been.

Although Belle didn’t argue with my restriction, it was clear that she was beginning to feel restless. She was often found pacing the library or corridors, or quizzing the servants about the history of a painting or statue. Not even playing with the kitten seemed to keep her entertained for long, although Soot was certainly a terror for the rest of the household. 

I interrupted one such calamitous moment when I went in search of Belle in the library. My intention had been to invite her on a short walk to the stables. The time out in the bitter cold would be limited, and I thought the visit with her horse might lift her spirits. 

Instead of finding Belle reading serenely by the fire or in front of one of the large windows as I had expected, I found her halfway up one of the bookshelves. She hadn’t bothered with one of the ladders, either. She was ten feet off the ground, clinging to the edges of the shelves.

It wasn’t hard to see why. The damn cat was five or six shelves above her, climbing higher still even as she tried to catch up. Belle was calling out to the cat, and another voice - I dimly recognized one of the maids - was frantically asking for the kitten to be caught. As I searched for the source, I spotted her. The feather duster was on the highest shelf, no doubt pursued there by the cat.

“Belle,” I hurried forward, my gaze torn between her and the nearest ladder. “Stop! Stay where you are and I’ll - “

“I’m fine!” she called down. “I almost have him.”

I couldn’t imagine what things must look like from her perspective, but from here I was certain she was nowhere near to catching him. “You don’t. Stay where you are, Belle.”

“No, I’m fine!” She huffed. “This is hardly the first time I’ve - “

Whatever her point was going to be, it was interrupted as the shelf she was standing on gave a loud crack. Belle let out a startled shriek, her grip on the shelves slipping.

There was barely time to leap forward, reaching up through the deluge of falling books to catch her before she hit the ground.

She landed heavily in my arms. For a moment we only stared at each other, eyes wide. Then fear seemed to settle into Belle’s expression, just as anger began to take root in mine.

I took a few steps away and set Belle on her feet where the ground was free of fallen books. “Stay there,” I growled. 

Pacing over to the nearest ladder, I began dragging it over, sweeping fallen books aside with my foot as I went. When Belle made a moment as if to start gathering them, I pointed at her. “Stay where I said,” I snapped. She jumped, and hastily backed up a pace, crossing her arms behind her back.

I was cautious stepping onto the first few rungs of the ladder. I hadn’t used one since my transformation and wasn’t entirely certain it would hold my weight. When the wood didn’t creak or splinter, I scaled it more quickly. Ignoring the kitten for now, I reached the level of the servant and held out a hand. When she reluctantly shuffled towards me, I lifted her up onto the platform of the second level. “I want everyone out of the library,” I told her. “Belle and I need to be alone. Entirely.”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed meekly, and hurried away.

The cat was next. Soot had recovered from the distraction of Belle falling, and had watched me transport the transformed maid with his tail thrashing. My own tail was doing a bit of thrashing as I reached out for the kitten. Once again, Soot showed his odd spirit by not backing away from my massive paw. 

Back on the ground, I didn’t immediately address Belle. Instead, I crossed to the library door and set the kitten on the ground in the hall, shutting him out of the room. Someone else would have to look after him for a while. Then I turned back to Belle, who was watching me warely.

“I believe I was quite clear about telling me no,” I said quietly, moving towards her.

Belle’s eyes widened. “I didn’t - “

“I told you to come down, and you said no,” I interrupted. “Twice. You endangered yourself yet again. And here you are, telling me no again?”

She had gone pale. Wringing her hands in front of herself, she started to shake her head, and then froze. “I’m… I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I growled, looking around the room. Moving over to a decorative table, I rested one hand on the surface. “I was also clear about the consequences. Come over here.”

Belle hesitated. She clearly wanted to argue, but seemed to think better of it. After a long moment, she squared her shoulders and moved to stand in front of me.

I patted the table. “Elbows down. There’s no reason to drag this out.”

If possible, she paled further. It made her red lips stand out even more, made her eyes look even larger than normal. “El- Elbows down?”

“Bend over,” I explained. “I’ve ensured that we are alone for this, so there’s no reason to be embarrassed. Unless you’d rather go back to the tower?”

Her cheeks flushed suddenly. Although her eyes had dropped, I could see how her jaw tightened. Angry now. I almost smiled. I did like her spirit.

Giving her a moment to adjust to the idea, I looked around for what I could use. There were the broken boards of the shelf she had been standing on. There was a sort of poetic justice to the idea, but I disliked giving Belle that much space just now. Any second I felt she would begin to argue, and I wanted to be nearby. After a moment’s thought, I stepped over to the next table and picked up a leather-bound book.

Belle was facing the table with a frown, but she hadn’t bent over yet. “Elbows down,” I said firmly. “I will not repeat myself again. You understood the consequences.”

After giving me a wary, nearly insolent look, she reluctantly bent forward, resting her elbows against the table. Already anticipating her protests, I set the book aside to rest one paw on her shoulder, keeping her in place as I reached down and began rucking up her skirts. Sure enough, Belle couldn’t stay quiet.

“You - !” she started to protest.

“Enough,” I growled. “I have been patient. You earned your punishment and you will take it. If the pain becomes intolerable, you may tell me. Otherwise, you will be silent.”

She was rigid now, but stayed silent as I lifted her shift out of the way, exposing her backside. Unable to help myself, I ran a paw over her creamy skin, feeling how soft and smooth it was, admiring how pale it was. A paleness about to be marred.

I moved the handful of fabric to the paw resting on Belle’s shoulders, keeping them out of the way and holding her in place at the same time. Then I picked up the book, adjusted the heft, and slapped it against her.

Belle gave a small gasp, but was otherwise silent. Even as the spanking continued, she was far quieter than she had been the last time. Perhaps I was being more gentle, or perhaps the texture of the book caused her less discomfort. I knew she could feel the book as her skin grew steadily pink. 

Eventually I could hear her breathing change. It was heavier now. And although she hadn’t tried to push up against my paw, she had tried shifting forward, closer to the table. Trying to get away from the blows. I kept my pace steady and didn’t reprimand her. 

“Tell me why you’re being punished, Belle,” I said quietly. My voice was low, gravelly.

She let out a little pant, and the book struck home two times without an answer.

“Tell me, and this will be over,” I promised.

Belle was breathing hard now, audibly. I wanted to finish this before she broke into tears. I also wanted to finish this before I forgot that this was a punishment and not foreplay. 

“I… I told you no,” she gasped.

I paused between swinging the book. When it landed next, she let out a little squeak. And - was I imagining it, or was that scent of arousal back in the air?

“And?” I prompted.

She didn’t answer immediately again. I took the opportunity to nudge her legs apart with my foot. Then I spanked her again, and Belle’s entire body jerked forward.

“And?” I asked again.

“And, I… I… climbed the shelves?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“You put yourself in unnecessary danger,” I corrected her. I slapped the book against her backside one last time, enjoying the repeated squeaking sound she made.

I tossed the heavy book aside, but didn’t immediately lower her skirts. Instead, I rested my palm against her rear once again. Her skin was hot now, and tinged red in places. I squeezed her cheek drawing out a quiet moan. “This will help ease the pain,” I promised, massaging her tissue. Shifting my position to stand fully behind her, I let her skirts rest on her back to cup and massage her rear with both paws.

She was so small compared to me. So light. It was so easy to part her legs even further just by lifting her off the ground a fraction of an inch. And the intoxicating scent of her arousal floated up to me. I breathed it in deeply, and felt my resolve crumble. 

Maybe I was a monster. A hideous creature. But some part of this girl wanted that. And too large a part of me wanted her.

I adjusted myself before I stepped back, lowering her skirts. “You may stand,” I told her.

As I’d expected, and somewhat hoped, the spark of defiance was back in Belle’s eye. No doubt she wanted to tell me just what she thought she ought to be allowed to do. I liked the flash of spirit, but I didn’t want the ground too firmly beneath her feet just now.

“Take off your dress,” I said.

Her eyes widened. But before she could protest, I gestured to the library around us.

“We are alone. Completely. Take off your dress, or I will remove it. I don’t imagine the fabric will survive the process. And I will not tell you again.”

Her cheeks flushed and she glanced around herself as if searching for servants lurking just out of sight. But after a moment of hesitation, she began to undress.

I watched with no small amount of pleasure. I had seen Belle naked before. Several times now. But her beauty was still remarkable, her figure as close to perfection as I had ever seen. Slim waist, long legs, full, and breasts I was itching to get my hands on again.

When she was down to her shift, she hesitated again, looking around. “The windows,” she protested, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

The curtains were wide open, that was true. But we were a story up. No one could see in. 

I pretended to agree for now, giving her a half-nod. “Sit on the the table,” I instructed, and moved towards the nearest window. Although I untied the cord holding the heavy velvet curtain in place, it was with the intention of shutting the room in darkness. No, I wanted the light. Instead, I slipped the cord through the ring where it hung, and carried it back to the table with me. Belle was being pliable now, but I doubted that would last. Especially when she realized what I had in mind.


	5. First Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get graphic

Belle had remained uncharacteristically quiet as I looped the cord around her wrists. It was only when I nudged her backwards to lay on the table that she finally spoke. “I thought you said the punishment was over?” she asked, her voice trembling just a bit.

“It is,” I agreed. I hadn’t given her permission to speak, but this was a point I wanted to be clear. “But as I’ve told you before, Belle, you are a beautiful woman. I want to enjoy you a bit.”

That provoked a response. Her hands jerked as she tried to sit up. I reached forward and pushed her flat again, resting one huge paw on her chest, the other on her thighs.

“Relax, Belle. You have nothing to fear.”

“You’re going to force me,” she accused.

“Maybe a little,” I admitted. “But I promise that you’ll enjoy it. And,” I added, needing a bit more force to keep her in place when she started to struggle again, “And you will remain a virgin, Belle. I will not rape you.”

Her struggled eased, although I could feel her heart beating frantically in her chest. Her pupils were dilated as she stared up at me. “How can I trust you?” she asked at last.

A corner of my mouth twitched. I leaned down close to her ear. “You have no choice,” I breathed.

It would have terrified a normal person. But it reawakened the arousal Belle had been feeling. She would have denied it of course, but I could feel her breasts heave, feel one of her nipples harden beneath my paw. And I could smell the change in her scent.

I took advantage of her momentary self-distraction and lifted her arms over her head. The cord was secured, tied around a table leg before she realized what had happened. When yanking on her arms did nothing, she tried kicking out her legs, then twisting away, but I held her too securely. “Wait,” she cried out.

“Belle,” I said quietly. My face was still bent low. I leaned a little further and nuzzled at her neck. My tongue flickered out to taste her skin. She shivered. “It’s time to be quiet again. If I accidentally hurt you, you may say so. The time for negotiating has long passed.”

She gasped when my paw shifted to settle fully on her breast, gently massaging the tissue. “But I didn’t know,” she protested quietly.

My thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling it harden and peak at my touch. “Or you chose not to notice,” I argued. I brushed at her nipple again, enjoying the way her breathing stuttered, and licked a line to her ear. She shivered again, her back arching ever so slightly to press her breast more fully into my grasp. Her mind might not be ready, but her body was.

I took my time, finding fresh patience with the knowledge that I truly could do what I wanted. She wanted it. Wanted me. And, God, I wanted her. Already I regretted my promise to leave her a virgin, but I knew I couldn’t have her. Not in this form.

Only when her breathing was heavier did I push further. I moved my tongue from her neck to her collarbone, and moved my paw to the neckline of her shift. The thin fabric was no match for my claws and I ripped a line to her navel, brushing the cloth aside to bare her breasts. Belle’s arms strained against the bonds, but apart from a whimper, she didn’t protest. That pleased me, but I avoided praising her, suspecting any invitation to speak would only clear her mind. So I resumed caressing her breasts and tasting her skin. But now I was on a path, and her rosey pink nipples were my goal.

Somehow it wasn’t until I was there, watching those tiny pink buds tighten under my breath did I realize another limitation. The fangs that protruded from my lips. My animalistic teeth. I couldn’t nip playfully at her skin. Worse, I couldn’t draw that delicate skin into my mouth and suck. 

I growled, frustrated with myself and furious at the enchantress who had done this to me. My tail thrashed angrily in the air, but even as I considered cutting Belle free and ordering her back to her bedroom, I saw how the noise affected her. Her skin erupted in gooseflesh, her back arched just a little, and her breathing deepened even further.

The reminder that Belle wanted me - even in this form - eased my temper. It was encouraging. Just because I couldn’t have her the way I wanted didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy her, couldn’t give her pleasure.

I leaned down and dragged my tongue across her nipple. Belle gave an inviting gasp, and when I repeated the gesture, being sure to use the raspy, flat of my tongue, she even let out a little moan. I kept up the licking until her nipple had gone from a pretty pink to a dark, rosey red. Then I moved to her other breast, drawing another moan from Belle. My tail thrashed again, but now it was from delight.

While Belle was occupied with my mouth on her breasts, I slid my paws down her sides, lifting her slightly to cup and massage her backside. I guessed that her next gasp was due to the reminder of her tender flesh, but she remained pliant. It was no difficulty at all to shred the remaining fabric of her shift. I didn’t think she even noticed. She also didn’t seem to notice that I had parted her legs and moved between them. 

I returned to stroking and massaging her breasts with my paws, carefully squeezing and flicking her nipples with the pads of my fingers so as not to touch her with my claws. Belle was nearly panting as I licked a line down her ribs and over her flat stomach. But when I shifted my weight and knelt down, pushing her thighs even further apart, she seemed to come back to herself.

She tensed. I could see her arms strain against her bonds again. She even lifted her head to stare down at me. I was pleased with the flush in her cheeks, the dazed look in her eyes, despite the expression of fear and anticipation she wore. “Wait,” she protested. “You can’t.”

I ignored her and leaned forward, licking up the length of her folds. Belle tensed, attempted to squeeze her thighs shut, but I wasn’t going anywhere. I could hear the cord holding her arms in place jerk as she tried to pull free. She might be nervous, or embarrassed, but she was also soaking wet. Her folds parted easily beneath my tongue and I lapped at her juices, my tail thrashing again as her protests trailed off with a whimper. She tasted sweet. And she was deliciously responsive. I dragged my tongue up her slit and brushed over her sensitive nub. she moaned, tilting her hips for easier access.

There was no sense in rushing things though. I shifted my attention lower, determined to take my time and thoroughly explore everything Belle had to offer. For now, I kept my attentions away from her clit, enjoying how her body would tense as I drew close, the near-moans of disappointment when I moved away again. Although I was disappointed to not be able to use my hands on her most-delicate areas, nor could I truly bury my mouth where I most wanted to be, there was no denying that Belle was growing closer to a climax all the while.

She stiffened afresh as I began to work my tongue into her opening. She was as untouched a virgin as I had had, but her body was primed and before too long I could penetrate her depths, tasting every inch of her. Once her muscles relaxed slightly, I pushed my shoulders against her thighs as my tongue worked deeper inside her, giving her a gentle mimicry of genuine lovemaking. Gazing up her prone body, I could see her breasts rocking from the movement. The sight was almost more temptation than I could bear.

I shifted again, licking at her folds with more force than before. Her whole body trembled in response, and when I applied my tongue to her clit, she let out an incredibly satisfying little cry. 

As much as I would have liked to continue prolonging her ecstasy, I was too eager to see her climax. I focused my attention on her clit, and found a feature of my beastly form that performed admirably in this delicate situation. I lapped at her, flicking my tongue over her sensitive skin with increasing speed. Belle jerked and shifted beneath me, her panting breath growing louder by the second. Her thighs quivered, her hips strained to lift closer.

“Wait!” she gasped out suddenly. “Wait, I- Something's- “

Another man might have reassured her. Or slowed his attentions to address her fears. But I was no gentleman. 

And she wanted the beast.

My claws pricked into her skin as I pressed her thighs flat against the table. I growled low in my throat, and gave her dragged the rough, flat of my long tongue over her swollen bud.

Belle's back arched. She let out a sound that was part cry, part moan. I might have straightened to enjoy the sight of what was likely Belle's first orgasm, but I continued my attentions to her clit, dragging her climax out until she collapsed, gasping and limp, onto the table.

I gave her a few lingering licks, tasting the sweet cream of her satisfaction and enjoying the twitches and groans they drew out. But my body demanded its it's own release. 

Standing, I swiped a paw over my jaw, a little surprised at how wet the fur there was. Surprised, and pleased. My tail thrashed the air as I worked Belle’s wrists free. Her struggles had tightened the knots and I had to work carefully to be sure not to hurt her. It took several minutes, and I was disappointed to see that her eyes had cleared faintly when I finally looked down at her. Her cheeks were still flushed, her breathing still heavier than usual, but her gaze was focused. Her mind would start ticking away any second now, questioning what she had allowed me to do to her.

“Get up,” I said, taking a step back. “Stand here,” I pointed in front of myself. I kept an eye on her to make sure she wasn’t light-headed, and then gestured at the table. “Hands there.”

I left her for a moment to remove my trousers. My cock was rock hard, throbbing for release. I rubbed the pre-cum around the head, lubricating myself. Bending down, I pushed Belle’s hair aside and breathed against her neck. “Don’t move,” I warned her.

She shivered and nodded. 

Positioning myself behind her, I angled my cock between her legs and pushed forward. She was still wet, practically dripping, and it only took a few thrusts along the length of her slit before I was well lubricated. I paused once at her opening, feeling how easy it would be to shift angles, to force my way inside her. The urge to mate, to claim her as my own was nearly overwhelming. But I mastered myself and nudged Belle’s feet together, taking my satisfaction in a way that wouldn’t damage her innocent body. This was still more relief than I’d had in years, after all.

As I thrust between Belle’s thighs, I slid my paws up from her hips, over her slim waist, and up to cup her full breasts. They were bouncing in time to my movements, just as I had imagined that first time I had spanked her. I gave them a gentle squeeze, feeling their weight. Her nipples were still erect, but I toyed with them anyway, tweaking and tugging on them until I could hear Belle’s breathing again. She panted and was slowly lowering her torso towards the table, either in an attempt to lessen my attention to her nipples, or to change the angle of my thrusts.

When her thighs quaked against mine, I felt I knew the answer. Abandoning her breasts, I settled my hands on her hips to hold her steady. Taking a step backwards, I withdrew enough so that only the ridged head of my cock was sliding the length her slit, stimulating her clit along the way. 

Belle’s pants turned to gasps. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out, but I held her steady. She let out another protesting “Wait, I - “ and then arched upwards, her hips jerking suddenly as she rode out her climax.

Rather than dragging out her pleasure a second time, I tightened my hold on her hips and surged forward again. I stroked the full length of my monsterous cock against her. My balls slapped against the back of her thighs. I pulled her back in time to my thrusts, growling low in frustration as the urge to part her legs, to force myself inside her rose again. 

My balls tightened. Tingled. I jerked Belle’s hips against mine roughly. Once, twice, and then I let out a faint roar as I finally found my own release. Cum jetted out of my cock in spurts, splashing Belle’s stomach and breasts liberally in turn, then the table I held her against as my muscles slowly relaxed. 

I jerked against her one last time and had to take a few breaths before I could find the strength to step away, relaxing my hold on her. Somewhat to my surprise, Belle didn’t make any attempt to stand on her own, but slumped onto the table, limp. She was still breathing heavily. As was I, for that matter.

This was hardly the place for a rest though. I looked around the room, taking in the strewn clothing, the puddle of fluids on the floor, and the no doubt considerable one beneath Belle on the table. With a resigned sigh, I pulled on my trousers and gathered up Belle’s dress. I draped it over her and carefully lifted her up. She was coated, practically soaked in cum. A rumble escaped me and my tail thrashed with animalistic pleasure at the sight. Mine, I thought possessively.

Belle seemed completely oblivious as I used her ruined shift to roughly mop up the table, and covered her with my cape. The servants would have to deal with the rest of the mess. I couldn’t imagine the gossip it would create, but I also didn’t care. All that mattered was Belle, and that she had wanted me, even in this state.

It was no surprise to see a servant lurking just outside of the library. I snorted impatiently and adjusted my hold on Belle’s silent, still form. “Send someone in to clean up in there,” I snapped. “And order a bath.”

“For… the girl’s chambers, my lord?” the servant prompted.

“The West Wing. And bring a fresh dress for her.”

“S-Sire…”

“What?” I snapped. I had already turned away, and now glared at the servant holding me up.

“The girl, she has… not so many dresses left. In fact, I believe the one she wore today may have been her last one.”

I glowered. “And why is that? We have a seamstress, do we not?”

“Well, yes, but we weren’t sure - “

I interrupted with a snort. “She needs to be comfortable, doesn’t she? This is her home now. Get her clothes and whatever else she needs. Don’t bother me with these petty questions.” 

For all I knew there were more questions, more concerns. But I didn’t care. Belle needed attention and I couldn’t be held up any longer. I hurried down the hall to the stairs that would take me to the West Wing, where we could continue to be alone.


End file.
